Three Times Owen Washes Cristina's Hair
by Angelamermaid
Summary: I don't think a summary is necessary. :-
1. Chapter 1

_He's washing my hair._ Cristina stood in a daze, hands braced against the wall, while Owen worked shampoo through her wet hair. _This is a new side of him. _This_ is definitely new._

She looked again at her left hand. With the two unfamiliar rings on it.

Owen started to hum. _He's humming. My husband is humming. Husband._

Cristina nibbled on her lower lip. _What am I supposed to do?_

Owen continued to hum, as he found a spray nozzle in the hotel shower stall. One large hand cupped her head, as he sprayed warm water into her hair. His thumb gently massaged her temple, as he rinsed out her hair. She leaned against his hand, seeking safety in the familiarity of his touch.

"And now, the conditioner," he murmured against her ear. The huskiness of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, even though she was standing in a very warm and steamy shower.

Cristina leaned her head back, as he started massaging her scalp with his sensitive hands. Her hands went to her breasts, lightly circling her nipples. Owen groaned appreciatively, and he subtly ground his hardened length against her slim buttocks.

By the time he started rinsing her hair again, she was leaning against him, one hand reaching behind to grab his hip. She let go of her confusion, the unfamiliar feeling of rings, the uncertainty of what she as a wife was supposed to be. Owen's hands were roaming her body, and she surrendered herself to his bliss.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey." Owen opened the door to the bathroom and cautiously peeked in. She waved at him from behind the shower curtain. "Mind if I join you?"

"If you want." Cristina continued scrubbing her arms with a loofah, as Owen disrobed. He climbed into the bathtub behind her.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was low and full of concern. She closed her eyes, awash with images. She tried not to remember the previous night, that one disastrous shift as a bartender, complete with lap dancing and a lot of vomiting after.

"Cristina." Owen spoke against her ear. "How are you?"

"Okay," she muttered.

He lifted up her hair, smelled it. Without a word, he reached for the shampoo bottle.

"What is it with you and hair?" Cristina asked as he squeezed liquid into his hands. "How come I didn't know about this before?"

"What?" His hands carefully touched her scalp, as if he were afraid she would shatter.

"This hair fetish. How long have you been washing women's hair?"

"Fetish?" Owen's voice sounded amused. "I just like washing your hair. It's beautiful."

"Did you wash Beth's hair?"

Instantly, Owen removed his hands from her hair. He stepped out of the bathtub and stared at her.

"Why did you get out?" Cristina furrowed her brow, mourning the loss of his touch.

"We do not talk about our past … partners … while naked!" Owen protested, hands on his hips. "Naked time is you and me time!"

"Oh." She smiled slightly. "Sorry."

He shook his head in exasperation and wagged a finger at her. "For the record, I have never washed anyone's hair but yours. I have never wanted to wash any other woman's hair. Got it?"

"Really?" A smile curled on her lips.

"Really." He stood there, dripping water. She saw the frustration on his face and felt a muffled sense of guilt.

"I'm … um … sorry about last night," she said quietly.

Owen's face softened. She extended a hand to him, and he took it, climbing back into the bathtub with her.


	3. Chapter 3

Cristina bounded upstairs to the main living level. She smiled to see Owen putting something in the oven.

"Dinner will be ready in 45 minutes," he informed her, before greeting her with a kiss.

"Good, time for a shower." She grabbed his hands and starting tugging Owen towards their bathroom.

"Now tell me this – does Meredith have a fire pole in her house?" Owen grinned, as they attacked each others' clothes.

"No."

"Did Meredith get to perform a heart transplant on a newborn today?"

"No." She smiled against his face as he gently nibbled on one of her earlobes.

"Did Meredith get a solo surgery before you did?"

"Nope." Cristina turned on the shower, as Owen climbed into the bathtub behind her.

"Sucks to be her." Owen chuckled behind her, his hands circling her waist.

"She also doesn't have whisker burn," Cristina snarked, dipping her head under the spray of warm water.

"Or a scar from an icicle," he teased, his fingers tracing the light scar on her abdomen. "And you like the whisker burn." 

"I do," she sighed, as he picked up the shampoo bottle. He chuckled as he started soaping up her hair.

Cristina turned around and faced Owen, as he ran his fingers through her hair. She slid her arms around his waist, tongue flicking against his chest, warm water pouring down on them and through her hair.

"Nobody has thick, gorgeous, curly hair like you do," Owen whispered, as he worked conditioner through her locks.

She smiled, tilting her head up for a kiss. Her hands reached down and started stroking his stiff erection, as he guided her under the spray. Once he'd rinsed out her hair, Owen guided Cristina up against a wall, their slick bodies entwining.

"Nobody makes me feel the way you do," Owen whispered, as he positioned her hips and slid inside, filling her with one smooth stroke.

Their mouths joined he slowly thrust into her, one hand shifting down to tease her.

Cristina breathed Owen's name as she felt her body change, familiar heat coursing through her veins. Every thrust, every stroke against her clit was a heightened sensation. Her inner muscles quivered as he increased the speed of his pumping. She clung to his broad shoulders as he pushed her to the brink and beyond. She gasped, head falling back, as she was suffused with a delicious warmth.

Owen's thrusts were becoming erratic, as she pulled him closer. Cristina buried her face in the crook of his neck, while he shuddered and released into her. His lips spread gentle kisses along her shoulder, as they came down from their highs.

Finally Owen pulled back and smiled at her, one hand stroking her face. "Sorry I couldn't get you a clinical trial," he smiled.

"That's okay," she shrugged, running her hands along his biceps. "I can think of quite a few things that I have that Meredith doesn't. Like a huge hunky husband with a hair fetish."

"It's not a fetish," he insisted. "And I love it when you call me your husband."

"Well husband, remind me of what I have." She squeezed his arms, craning her head to kiss him again.

"As you wish," Owen smiled, before moving his hands to her breasts. She sighed, letting go of the day's disappointments, and once again losing herself in Owen's bliss.


End file.
